


Do you find me charming?

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "You're blushing.""What are you talking about," Alex sighed, unwilling to dignify the comment with further deep analysis."Oh, too right. My bad," Jefferson said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the armrest of his chair, closing his book.--A series of Hamilton drabbles, multiple pairings probably, erratically updated.





	Do you find me charming?

“You’re blushing.”

Alexander glanced up, a large portion of his hair loose out of its bun and haloing his face as he sat hunched over his laptop. They had been in the campus library for at least two hours, he and Jefferson were working-- or at least one of them was-- on a project due in their international law class, and frankly Alex would rather be eating his own shoes than in this position. They had met up at 8am, Alex begrudgingly optimistic (“Who knows, maybe you won’t leave with one foot in your mouth and the other up his ass,” John had drawled from his bed, waving him out of the dorm room. Alex had lovingly chucked a textbook at him before he left) with the hope that he’d be able to scrape an A even with Jefferson’s presence. _I dreamed a dream,_ he thought absently. But his mood had quickly deteriorated to the aforementioned willingness to eat footwear, pretty much from the moment Jefferson had opened his mouth. The current peace was maintained only due to Alex’s imposition of the “no talking so long as I’m typing” rule, but it seemed the threat of boredom was too great for Jefferson. His previous irritation with his ““partner”” had simmered beneath the surface, but Jefferson’s offhand comment brought it itching to the surface again.

He was seated, somehow looking simultaneously prim and casual in his hoodie, in the sagging armchair across from him, glasses just barely perched on his nose, a book on postmodern politics in hand. The library was lit up with the perfect early daylight, the sky still showing the promise of more to come... and the promise of another three hours of putting up with Jefferson in this goddamned “study” session.

“What are you talking about,” Alex sighed, unwilling to dignify the comment with further deep analysis, knowing it to be untrue because of the lack of heat on his ears-- when he blushed, he blushed _hard,_ he thought with an internal wince.

“Oh, too right. My bad,” Jefferson said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the armrest of his chair, closing his book. Alex puffed out a short breath through his nose, ready to dive back into his essay, glancing down, but a hand came up to his jaw before he could, and wild hair obscured his vision, and, ah.

He was being kissed.

His eyes shut in a flinch, plush lips against his own, pressing lightly. They caught his bottom lip briefly before a tongue brushed along his lips, parting them. He slowly opened his lids, and was met with the sight of Thomas’s eyes hooded, dark and deep. An easy pace that ground his mind to a halt, if only for a second, letting himself get dragged into the moment. His hand twitched up, fingers dragging at the arm planted firmly on the chair behind him, but Thomas was already drawing his soft mouth away, letting his fingers slide along Alex’s jaw, luring a quick jolt of adrenaline out of him. Thomas hovered, so close that Alex could see the imperfections in his skin, eyes now calculating as he brushed his thumb along the tendons of Alex’s neck. His body was oh-so-slightly bowed towards Thomas-- the clearness of the daylight now impressionistic and vague, a haze without heat that consumed his senses. Alex’s eyes flicked down to Thomas’s lips as they parted.

“There we are. I fixed it.” Thomas raised his brows and smirked, moving his hand to brush along the top of Alex’s burning ears. Alexander’s brain punched back into gear, and he shoved Jefferson off of his chair jerkily.

“Fuck you,” he said, saccharine sweet but sharp, as Jefferson stumbled slightly, the bastard looking surprised for only a moment. The softness of the moment was gone, a leer settling in on the fucker’s face as he straightened. _Of course,_ Alex thought, furious, _of course he would be the kind of asshole to do something shitty like that--_

“Oh, sweetheart, you wish,” he jabbed, just as sugary, as he settled back down into his own chair. Frustration and resignation curled hot in Alexander’s gut, and he hunched his shoulders, refusing to look at Jefferson, refusing to think about what just happened and why he wasn't punching Jefferson right now, and resisting the urge to reach up and touch the the heat rolling off his cheeks and ears. Alex “casually” flicked him off as he settled back into his work again, but finding the words he tapped out to be “fuck me fuck me fuck it” over and over again. Across the table, chin in one hand and book forgotten, Jefferson leisurely watched him with a satisfied grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know that Thomas once attempted to denounce Alexander to Washington by reporting that his rival had called the Constitution a "shilly shally" thing?  
> Sick burn, Tommie. Get 'im.  
> 


End file.
